My Kingdom for a Muggroom
by snowinacan
Summary: Bluebear gets a craving with a twist. Sorry for inflicting this upon the world, I just hope it's bearable.
1. Chapter 1

The day was dawning bright and warm when Captain Bluebear found himself with an irrepressible craving for Muggrooms. He patted his stomach thoughtfully – when was the last time he'd tasted a Muggroom? Years ago, and he'd sworn to himself that he'd never eat another, those blasted things.

He sat up in his bed and gazed down at Avriel. The motion of him getting out of bed roused her and her eyes flitted open.

"Why are you awake? Go back to sleep, it's early," she mumbled, rolling over.

"I know," he chewed his lip. "I was just wondering, do we have any Muggrooms?"

She rolled back over, "Muggrooms? I shouldn't think so."

"Okay." He left the room as quietly as he could and fifteen minutes later, was armed with the knowledge that there were no Muggrooms in the house at all and that it's not a good idea to walk into a kitchen in the pitch black or you might just stub your toe.

He seated himself in his armchair and waited for the sun to arise fully.


	2. Chapter 2

Avriel liked to sleep late; a trait which Bluebear could never quite get his head around. He liked to rise at six on the dot, whereas Avriel was content to waste entire mornings with dozing and snoring. He'd asked her how she could stand it a couple of times but she'd simply replied with, "A chromobear must have her secrets," and a grin, making fun of the line in his novel. That was her charm, he supposed. Fortunately, she wasn't sleeping too late that day - but, it was still nearly ten o' clock by the time she toddled into the living room. Bluebear had been there for the past five hours, whiling away the time with reading a book and trying to fix the Gravity Manipulator so he could have a game of Zero-Gravity Naked Kerplunk.

"Still got Muggrooms on the brain?" she asked.

"I have," he replied, sighing. "What do you think it means? Perhaps it's a sign. Do you think the Muggs need my help and are trying to signal me with some kind of molecular telepathic Muggroom ray? Or maybe, the Zamonium is back!"

"Or perhaps, my dear, you've just got a craving."

"It's a possibility," he grumbled.

"Would you like some breakfast?" she called, a few moments later from the kitchen. "I've got some nice Atmete eggs."

Atemete eggs were good, mighty fine little things: bright purple and a creamy taste reminiscent of lemonade.

But Muggrooms. Muggrooms.

Muggrooms.

"No, thank you," he declined, ignoring the rumbling of his belly. "I think I'll go foraging." And with that, Bluebear was out the door, marching through the forest in pursuit of a Muggroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Bluebear walked with a spring in his step but a hunger in his stomach. It was everything that a beautiful day should be comprised of: sunlight, twittering birds, soft grass underfoot and a general feeling of hope. But hope for what? He hoped for Muggrooms but as he wandered further and further away from the house, sense started to return to him.

_You won't find what you want, you know. There's no Muggrooms outside of the Demerara Desert. I thought you'd know that of all people, Bluebear. _

"What? What! Who's there?" he stopped dead and his heart was thudding. Suddenly the day was less pleasant. "Who was that?"

_Who was what?_

"That! You!"

_Oh, me? Oh, don't mind me. I'm just a harmless stream of bacteria living inside of your brain and talking to you. _

"Oh, well. That's okay then," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, as he sat down on a log.

_You weren't so far off when you asked if the Zamonium was back. I'm not the Zamonium, but I grew on it for a while. A long while, actually. And now I'm here. How are you feeling, Bluebear?_

Bluebear was silent as he sat and thought about what to do.

_I'm in your brain, you know. I can hear your thoughts. And, by the way, none of that will work. _

Bluebear paused a long pause before asking, "Are you the reason for the Muggroom craving? Is that why I'm here?"

_Precisely._

"Why?"

_I wanted a chat._

Bluebear waited for it to continue. It didn't. "What's the punchline?"

_There isn't one. I genuinely just want to talk. It's ever so lonely in here, you know. I didn't want to start talking to you around Avriel because, how might she react? Bacterium has broken up many a relationship before, I can tell you. _

"So you lured me out here?"

_Indeed I have – oh, God! I can tell what you're thinking. I won't be an inconvenience, I promise! You never knew I was here._

"But now I do and I'm sat on a log talking, apparently, to myself."

_Yes, well. I'm growing on the brain of a chromobear; we all have our burdens, don't we?_

"Look, I don't mean to sound terrible, but isn't there somewhere else you could grow? It just makes me uncomfortable to think that you can hear all of my thoughts and, to be honest, I quite enjoy having a brain all to myself."

_Oh! So that's how it is, is it? I can just go away unless I infect something else – either that or I can curl up in the back of your cranium and die! Would you like that?_

"No, no! Don't kill yourself. We'll figure out something," he nibbled his lip thoughtfully. "I want to go home now but I'll come back out here tomorrow and we can talk then, okay? Do you promise to stay quiet until then?"

The voice in his head sighed. _I promise. _


	4. Chapter 4

The coming weeks afforded many trips out into the forest for Bluebear, in which he and the Bacteria became fast friends. He – or _they_, as Bluebear began to refer to himself ("We're just going for a walk, Avriel. No- I mean, me! I am.") – went out to the same log increasing frequently and for a long time they forgot that they had resolved to do anything. They talked and chatted and whiled the time away playing word games, discussing the meaning of life and the novels Bluebear had recently read. The Bacteria was a supreme fan of Optimus Yarnspinner and regaled the chromobear with the stories he'd learned off by heart, and it was as pleasant as pleasant could be.

Until-

"Bluebear?"

"Yes, my dear," he replied, turning to face her.

"Are you going walking again?"

"Yes, my dear. I'm going to go and look for Muggrooms," the lie was easily told. His eyes shifted and gazed out of the window over Avriel's shoulder.

"Look at me," she said, eyes full of hurt. "Where do you go – where have you been going? All those times you go off into the forest?"

It was at that exact moment that Bluebear realised he needed to get rid of the Bacteria.

_It was good while it lasted, Comrade. _


	5. Chapter 5

The evening was warm for that time of the year. In that part, those were known as the duffel coat months. But, for whatever reason that it was, the air lacked its usual coolness and if any duffel coats were to be worn, then they certainly had to be left unfastened. The Bluevriel household's stock of coats had long since been packed neatly away into the back cupboard, under the curtain dispenser and next to the ceremonial brass toenails.

However, as he approached his wife, Bluebear wished earnestly for his duffel coat. Abundant and floofy, it would have been comforting. His coat was a thick, silver one and it made him think of armour. Not that he thought he needed armour. Avriel wouldn't lash out, she wasn't the sort. But there was something changed in her now he had noticed it, it was all he could see; the way she disappeared inside herself for minutes at a time, the estranged look in her eyes, the way she twiddled her claws together, making them clack. He hated to make her sad and it disgusted him that he hadn't noticed that he'd been doing it.

Bluebear was clever. He could give you the textbook definition of water displacement in a vacuum, why a Goffer must never bathe in anything contain lemon, how to displace a vacuum in water, the formulae needed to work out the correct amount of decimal places in one's age and amount of elbows in order to find your destiny and why bears without hairs can never be president. He could write a doctoral thesis on the use of imagery and the exacerbated reflections of modern society in the writings of Billy Spearshake in his sleep. He could explain delicately and concisely almost any question you could throw at him but there was _one_ thing that Bluebear was certain that he clueless about. And that was feelings.

They were silly and strange and it was disconcerting enough trying to figure what your own were doing, let alone trying to figure out someone else's.

He ran his paw through the fur on his head, exhaling slowly. "Darling?"

Avriel didn't move, just quietly stood with her back to him. He could tell by the slight angle of her head that she was straining for his words. Was she angry? Or just curious? Perhaps, she'd slept funny, made her back tender and was then having to keep it perfectly straight. No twisting around for Avriel.

He puffed up his cheeks and released the air slowly. "I'm going on a trip."

She stiffened, turned her head to look at him but not her body. "A trip?"

"A trip," he confirmed, near silently. He coughed, cleared his throat, nodded. "A trip!"

"Where to?"

Oh.

_You should think before you say these things, Blue._

"Ehm, just about. I was thinking of hiking to where the big Bollog's head used to be…?" he was uncertain and found himself mumbling. For a champion congladiator, he was finding it difficult to make up this lie on the spot. If only his old audience could see him now.

She turned to face him fully, her arms where crossed over her stomach and she was curled over slightly. Weighed down by something Bluebear didn't want to think about lest he accidentally figure what it was. She pursed her lips but was trying to suppress the frown that wanted to furrow over her features. Her body was giving her away. He just wondered what it meant.

"Why are you going on a trip?" she asked hoarsely.

He hardened his resolve, puffed up chest, loosely balled his fluffy fists.

"Because of reasons!" he declared. "Now, if you'll excuse me, my love, I must pack and depart!"

He marched from the room, deciding to get the job over and done with and make peace with Avriel when he returned. He'd massage her shoulders, she liked that. And then they'd both be happy together again.

_You've buggered it now, mate._

"Shut up. What do germs know about these things?" he whispered almost inaudibly.

_You've got me there. _


	6. Chapter 6

_Ah! Boys on the road together – it'll be quite the trip, won't it, mate?_

"Boys? You have a gender now, do you?"

_Well, Blue. It's slightly more complicated than that but for now, yes. _

"Good, good." Bluebear pressed his lips into what he intended to be a smile and rearranged the pack on his shoulders. He'd gone for the spotted hanky rucksack; traditions are always nice.

_Cheer up, mate. Perhaps, if you bring her back something really special, she'll forgive you._

"She's not like that!" Bluebear protested, blinking as he marched through the forest where the dappled light skittered across his eyes. The days were still warm and he could feel the beginnings of sweat beginning to bead between the strands of his fur. It matched the colour of the sky today. "She thinks I'm…you know. Doesn't she?"

_Most likely._

"I can't believe I didn't notice – obviously she was going to draw that conclusion!" He thwacked his palm against his forehead and huffed. "And if I try to tell her about you now, she'll only think I'm crazy or that it's just some excuse! Some horrible cover-up. Sometimes I think I should just hand back all my fancy degrees and awards. I can be so stupid sometimes, can't I?"

_Hm. I suppose that emotional inaptitude it is a _type_ of stupidity._

They walked, or rather Bluebear did, for a while longer in silence before, "You knew the whole time, didn't you?"

There was a pause. Then, _I don't want to lie to you, so I'm just going to stay quiet. _

The thought process for a reply was just flitting through Bluebear's brain, when the Bacteria interrupted him.

_I'm your friend! I'd just like to point that out. I like you and I don't really want to leave._

For a voice coming from the inside of a head, it was sincere. Sad, even. Bluebear sighed.

"Well, a gift isn't a bad place to start, is it?"

_Not at all, not at all! What does she like, this wife of yours? _Its voice perked up, far more cheerful now. Though, he inwardly wished that the Bacteria wouldn't refer to his wife in such an offhand manner. This was ever so shortly before realising that it heard all his thoughts.

_Sorry. Does the lovely Avriel like books?_

"That's better," he smiled. "She loves them, actually."

_That's excellent, mate! Should we detour to Florien on the way to…wherever it is we're going? Or Wolperting? Or what about the place itself – Bookholm!_

"Oh, but I can't be away too long. Avriel…"

_Oh. Want to get back pretty sharpish, do you?_

"It would be best, I think."

_Where are you taking me?_

By this point, Bluebear had reached their log. Their little spot where they had spent so many afternoons together chatting and laughing and hypothesising about the meaning of life or just how many cats could Kat Gryll grill, if Kat Gryll could grill cats. He smiled to himself and sat on the end of the worn-smooth wood. He thought long and hard and in silence. The Bacteria left him to it this time.

"I know of a Troglotroll," he said at length. "I don't know if he's still around. If he is, you can go and live on his brain." The words came out like a command and Bluebear wasn't entirely sure that he had tried to make them any different.

He shut his eyes and he thought of Avriel: the shade of her fur, the feel of her fingertips against him when she pulled crumbs from the hair on his chin, the look of nervously excited bliss in her eyes just before she told him she loved him, and how he had resolved to see that look as often as possible.

_What's this Troglotroll like, then?_

"You're in my brain, you know exactly what this Troglotroll is like."

_I thought we were friends. Best friends, I would have called us._

"We are."

_Are you punishing me?_

There was a long pause, Bluebear opened his eyes. He looked up at the leaves in the trees and forced himself to think about photosynthesis. The reaction in which a plant uses sunlight and carbon dioxide to make glucose and oxygen. Chloroplasts. Chlorophyll. The conversion of glucose to starch for long term storage of energy.

_Blue._

All done within the leaves of the plant. Other areas are used for other things. Like the xylem and phloem that travel around the stem. Active transport in the roots. The travel of water against the concentration gradient.

_Blue! _

He mentally sighed. "We'll go to Florien and see if Abdullah Nightingale wants you."

He could have sworn he felt something in his head nodding solemnly.


End file.
